


Glorfindel and Erestor and some Shenanigans

by raiyana



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Glorfindel is not subtle, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Smut, Teasing, Voice Kink, seductive Erestor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-06 04:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: The Guard Captain and the Chief Counsellor...





	1. Clean Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ulan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/gifts), [Dalandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalandel/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erestor is interrupted in the baths...

Sinking into the warm water, he groaned, tilting his head back to rest against the sculpted edge, softened by a rolled-up towel, and felt the tensions of the day leave his body. Floating in the water, the scent of pine and juniper oils in the water filling his mind with the memory of sunlit walks through forest glades far from his current home.

Closing his eyes, he sank into the pleasant memory, listening to the songs of birds and the laughter of a dear friend challenging him to a fight with swords.

 _Swords…_ the relaxing memory faded seamlessly into another.

He had watched the Guard training, earlier, passing by the sunlit courtyard on his way to the Library and stopped almost despite himself, caught by the golden glow of the sun on golden hair, golden _skin_ that looked so very _lickable_.

Smiling to himself, the images in his mind changed, becoming clearer but still hazy with imagination, following the trail of a droplet of sweat painting a line through the light layer of dust that stuck to that strong back, naked to the waist just to allow him these tantalizing glimpses of flesh, of golden skin stretched over strong muscles.

The warrior moved with grace and surety beyond that common to their people, golden waves of hair sticking to his shoulders, flexing with each swing and parry. ‘ _A perfect specimen of strength and beauty_ ’ he had heard whispered coyly behind the cover of hands, shy glances following that powerful body, hints of redness in the cheeks of the watchers.

He had remained silent, outwardly uninterested, but the sight had burned itself into his mind, the swift movements of the swordfighter contrasting with the slow teasing glide of the sweat that ran down the valleys and hills of his skin.

It was a path almost designed to be followed by a curious tongue, flicking past a nipple here, tracing the outline of abdominal muscles here – _would they quiver or would he remain stoic?_ – no, those strong muscles would shudder, their owner breathe out a gust of air; not quite a moan, not _yet…_ no, the moans would spill from that perfectly shaped mouth later, when his tongue danced across that muscular hip, discovering the spots that would make him jump and hiss in pleasure.

Imagining the way his hands would cup that tight arse, running lightly across the soft leggings he had been wearing, undoing them just enough, just enough to _taste_ … because they might have been discovered, he thought, smiling as the fantasy continued to play in his mind.

Glorfindel would be gentle, at first – or he’d try to, anyway, always so considerate; his golden warrior, so kind. He’d be gentle, wrapping his fingers around the braids that kept Erestor’s hair neat for meetings, stroke his fingers slowly across oh-so-sensitive ear-tips – so fleeting it might have been a dream.

He would lick him, chase that droplet of sweat into the leggings he wore, breathing in the scent of him, nuzzling into soft skin, feeling the stirrings of desire against his cheek, turning just enough to give it a small kiss.

That’s when the moan would come, reward him for his efforts. He’d look up, then, catch that blue gaze burning down, taking in the sight of him on his knees, still wearing the fine robes of his station.

‘ _Quiet’_ , he’d whisper, _‘you have to be quiet or they will see you, see you here, standing before me – demanding your pleasure_ ’ Not that it would be a demand, except for the plea hidden in that lust-darkened gaze – and he’d be glad, then, of the way his robes would cover his own desire from those sharp eyes.

He’d lean in slowly, sliding his tongue along the length of him, drawing out that first taste, clean skin and sweat, a hint of musk, closing his lips around the head and drawing that first bitter bead of desire into his mouth with a swift flick of his tongue.

Above him, the warrior would groan, the fingers in his hair tighten to the point of pain and then ease off, his name a whispered curse falling from those lips.

Gripping himself beneath the water, Erestor groaned at the thought of filling his mouth – _his_ _throat –_ briefly wondering how many others had had that fantasy – or that pleasure – but pushing the thought away as he fell deeper into his fantasy.

Hollowing his cheeks would make Glorfindel groan, forcing him to press his lips tight together to avoid detection but unable to conceal the way his body shuddered, his hips moving in a few erratic thrusts. Erestor thought he’d look up, then, letting Glorfindel see the desire clear in his own eyes, pressing down against his own groin for a moment, revealing the outline of his desire.

In the warm water of the pool, Erestor’s fist moved slowly, speeding up as Glorfindel-in-his-head got closer to giving him the reward he could almost taste already; thick and salty on his tongue, splashing against the roof of his mouth and sliding down his throat.

 

 

Glorfindel had been wanting a bath most of the day when he finally pushed the door to the bathhouse open, breathing in the soft scent of the flowering vines wrapping around the white pillars, the soft humidity of steam hanging in the air filling him with a sense of welcome. Whoever decided teaching a class on unarmed wrestling just after his morning swordsmen – it was himself, which didn’t make it better – was a good plan ought to have realised that he’d be working out in the brightest heat of midday sun… and that he’d promised to ride out with a small patrol shortly after. Grumpily discarding his clothes, Glorfindel froze at the sound of splashing coming from the next room. He had little desire for company – unless the company was silent and offered him a bone-melting massage as well, perhaps – and so he remained behind a pillar, teetering indecisively.

Peeking out from his flowery hideout, he stared, enraptured by the sight before him.

The water was clear, revealing every plane and curve of lean muscle that was usually covered in voluminous robes. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his mouth slightly open, a soft moan escaping him as his fist moved lazily beneath the water, obscuring but not quite _hiding_ the fact that the Chief Counsellor was pleasuring himself slowly.

 _Beautiful_ , he thought, watching a tremor of pleasure cross that face, surprising himself with the thought. Erestor was a good-looking ellon, he knew, but he’d never considered if he was _beautiful_ before… had mostly thought of him as a dispenser of pithy and amusing wit clad in dark robes, in truth.

For once, that hair was unbound, the circlet – he wasn’t quite clear on Erestor’s bloodlines, but his position in the Imladris hierarchy was undeniably among the highest – abandoned atop a pile of dark blue and purple robes, long dark locks floating in the water around him. One lock hung halfway across his eye, and Glorfindel wanted to smooth it away, watching as a few strands clung to his wet skin, appearing above water on a sudden slow thrust, letting him catch a glimpse of a peaked nipple.

Erestor gasped, his back bowing once, forcing his chest above the water. His hand, working still beneath the water slowed down, drawing out the pleasure – the other one was busy, too, but he couldn’t see exactly what he was doing from the angle of his hiding spot.

He was spellbound, knowing that he ought not watch, but too enthralled by the beauty of Erestor in the throes of pleasure to stop, to make his presence known and risk Erestor _stopping_.

Already, he had more than enough fodder for his own mind, later, though, as his hand strayed down his body, cupping his own surprisingly hard erection, he did not think he would be able to wait that long. Swiping his thumb over the weeping head, spreading the wetness that had gathered there along his shaft, he kept time with Erestor’s slow strokes, his gaze locked on the whiteness of his teeth pressing into his lower lip, turning the plump redness pale and bloodless with pressure, his breath shallow and rapid, loud in echoes against the tiles.

“Glorfindel…” Erestor moaned.

Glorfindel froze, his cock giving an eager twitch in his hand.

For a moment, he stared at Erestor, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, but the chief counsellor’s eyes remained shut, pleasure drawn in every line of his face, the tendons in his neck straining when he leaned back against the edge of the pool, two fingers of his free hand stuffed into his mouth.

Unaware that his fist had begun moving again, Glorfindel’s eyes were glued to the way Erestor’s arm disappeared into the water, leaning forwards for a better view as he sped up his own touch to match Erestor’s.

 

“Glorfindel…” he moaned, the hand that had been playing with his balls moving upwards once more, two then three fingers stuffed into his mouth – it was not as satisfying as a thick cock, of course, but he didn’t have any of his toys to hand.

The pleasure built inside him, pooling at the base of his spine as he dreamed that his fingers were replaced with something much more pleasant, distantly aware of the way his cut-off moan echoed against the walls, almost making him sound like several people.

The moaning continued.

Erestor’s eyes snapped open, staring across the pool.

Yanking the fingers from his mouth, he prepared to speak, to yell at whomever was watching him from the shadows when he recognised the blue eyes, hazy and dark with lust.

“Glorfindel…?” he asked, and then he noticed the nearly desperate way the warrior was staring at him, his fist wrapped around his almost angry-looking cock, Glorfindel’s breaths coming in short pants. Desire made the red skin glisten invitingly in the lamplight and Erestor licked his lips slowly, hearing Glorfindel swallow audibly.

He had begun by the pillar, Erestor realised in the second it took him to take in the sight, towel and clothes heedlessly dropped on the floor, but now he was standing at the edge of the pool, legs quivering as he fucked his own fist.

Erestor moved, his own hand never leaving his cock as he stood up, the water lapping teasingly at his hips, not high enough to hide anything from that spellbound gaze. Walking towards Glorfindel, Erestor’s mind gave up making sense of things and simply decided to go with whatever was about to happen.

Keeping those blue eyes locked on his fist, pumping rapidly, Erestor thrust into that tight circle with every step.

“May I help you,” he purred, “my Lord Glorfindel?”

Glorfindel’s eyes fell shut for a moment, his whole body shuddering. “Please…” he whispered hoarsely, biting his lip. “I- I didn’t-”

Whatever he had or hadn’t meant to do, Erestor never heard, the stuttered words turning into a deep groan when he leaned in to swipe his tongue across the swollen head of Glorfindel’s cock.

He was right, a part of him thought smugly, listening to Glorfindel’s groan when he slurped that thick tool into his mouth, filling his mouth this way was much better than his own fingers. Grabbing Glorfindel’s perfect round buttock with his spit-slick fingers, Erestor kept him still, bobbing his head swiftly as that taste he had craved flooded across his tongue.

“Eres-” Glorfindel groaned, thrusting shallowly, unconsciously, the head of him pressing into Erestor’s throat with ease. Erestor moaned around him, his own fist a blur, splashing water onto the tiles. Glorfindel’s hands wound into his hair, clenching when Erestor sucked him deep, lavishing that soft-but-hard muscle with his tongue, flicking into the small slit for a taste. “Erestor!” Glorfindel cried out, almost pushing him away – Erestor tilted his head back, looking up at him.

For a moment, those blue eyes filled the world, making him lose track of his task, faltering in his rhythm. Glorfindel’s hand moved, cupping his cheek gently, his fingertips running down Erestor’s ear.

And then the delicious cock was yanked out of his mouth and water splashed up his back.

Erestor whirled.

 

 

Spluttering, Glorfindel emerged from the pool, shaking wet hair out of his face. His foot ached where it had banged against the side of the pool, but it was a distant concern compared to the sudden lack of Erestor’s warm wet mouth. Stumbling backwards, he realised that his ankle had taken the worst of it, glaring past Erestor’s shoulder at the wet floor.

“Are you… well?” Erestor asked, frowning lightly and licking his lips. “Are you hurt?”

“Fine,” Glorfindel gasped, feeling his ankle throb in time with his heart but far more concerned with the throbbing pulse in his groin. “Banged my foot, is all.” He couldn’t take his eyes off Erestor’s mouth, his lips glistening and slightly swollen. Glorfindel hesitated; no idea how he had ended up with his cock down the chief counsellor’s throat in the first place and not quite sure how to ask for him to resume that glorious act of pleasure. “Please…” _please let me touch you._

Erestor tilted his head, looking at him, one hand still wrapped loosely around his own cock, pumping slowly. Glorfindel stared, feeling his cheeks heat.

“See something you like?” Erestor purred – how had he never realised just how deliciously husky his voice could go? – stalking towards him. Glorfindel felt silly taking a half-step back, ending up sprawled on the ledge that Erestor had occupied when he first spotted him. He swallowed hard.

“You…” he whispered, and then Erestor was there, those lips sliding against his own, that eager tongue venturing into his mouth to explore. Glorfindel’s hands followed the tempting lines of his back down to the arse that was rounder than he had ever imagined and filled his hands perfectly.

Giving up on getting to his feet, Glorfindel surrendered to the haze of kissing, tugging Erestor onto his lap and using his grip to grind up against him. Erestor mewled into his mouth, tangling his fingers in Glorfindel’s wet hair as he plundered his mouth properly.

“Mmmmh” he moaned, running a wet hand up Glorfindel’s chest, pinching his nipple. Glorfindel groaned, pressing him closer with one hand while the other snaked in between them, catching both himself and Erestor in his fist. “Oh, sweetling,” he purred, kissing a path to Glorfindel’s ear and sucking lewdly at the tip, sending sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine. “Touch me, my Lord.”

The water made them slicker, splashing around his fist when he broke the surface. Glorfindel set a swift pace, suddenly desperate to reach the end before Erestor decided to leave him.

“Don’t- Don’t call me,” he panted, head falling forward to land against Erestor’s surprisingly muscular shoulder, “my Lord.”

Erestor chuckled, nipping at his ear and pressed closer, one hand roaming Glorfindel’s chest while the other was tangled in his hair, making him look up for another soul-stealing kiss.

“As you wish,” he moaned, moving just that tiny bit _better_.

Glorfindel felt the fires licking at the base of his spine.

“Glorfindel…” he whispered, bringing that tongue back into play, flicking along the ridge of Glorfindel’s ear, sucking the tip into his mouth and making Glorfindel think of the way his cock had filled that throat, his grip tightening as he chased his release. “Come for me.” Erestor panted hotly in his ear, making Glorfindel’s toes curl as his mind shattered, crushing him against his chest as he felt the both of them swell in his fist, spilling cloudy in the water.

 

 

Erestor chuckled softly, coming back to his own mind. Snuggled into Glorfindel, his head resting on the warrior’s shoulder and his legs spread wide across those strong thighs – for a moment he wondered what it would be like to ride him – he stretched out his tongue, slowly tracing a mark he did not remember scratching. Glorfindel shivered against him, his fist still moving slowly, just on the edge of oversensitivity.

“So… our Lord of Golden Flowers is a bit of a voyeur?” Erestor murmured, kissing the next scratch. Unexpected… but intriguing.

Glorfindel stiffened. “I… Chief Counsellor, I – err I apologise-” he babbled.

Erestor pressed two long fingers against his lips for silence. “You’ve had your cock in my mouth, _Glorfindel_ , your _hand_ is still wrapped around mine – I think you can call me Erestor.”

 

 

“Erestor…” Glorfindel breathed, feeling saddened when he let go of Erestor’s cock – he had hardly got a good view to store in his memory – his spirits lifting when Erestor pressed a kiss to his jaw and plummeting down to the depths of the Belegaer when Erestor slid backwards off his lap, getting to his feet.

“This was fun,” Erestor said softly, smiling at him. Glorfindel wanted to reach for him bring him back, discover what other pleasures might be found in the company of the chief counsellor.

He did not, staring at Erestor as though he was studying the play of shadows across his skin, trying to imagine painting him later. Erestor’s smile turned wry

“You might find my door unlocked for you,” he said, passing Glorfindel with a final caress, those long fingers lightly tracing across one of the marks he had left on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “If you should try it.”

Glorfindel remained in the pool for a long time before washing himself mechanically, his feet bringing him – his hair still dampening his robes – to Erestor’s door, wondering if he really quite dared ask for what he wanted.

The door opened.


	2. Dramatic Arts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Erestor learns a few things about his new lover, and Glorfindel has a very... _hard_ time...

He had noticed it first in a meeting, content to break the dullness of petitioners with more ideas than sense by watching Glorfindel out of the corner of his eye. He had done so before, of course, but it seemed so much more interesting now that he had seen what lay beneath those clothes, had felt the way he moved in the privacy of his own bed.

Casual lovers, that’s what he called it in his own head – there was little in his past to suggest that Glorfindel would ultimately be satisfied with merely one lover but Erestor was determined to enjoy him as long as he was allowed.

It was when he stood to speak, piercing the airheaded arguments with a few sharp words that he saw it. Glorfindel’s eyes, usually attentive and alert were oddly hazy, his gaze half-lidded as he leaned back in his seat, hands folded on the table.

At first, he had thought it sleep encroaching, and changed his voice to be a little more sharp in hopes of waking him – Elrond might consider Glorfindel a friend, but it did not look good for the Captain of their defensive forces to fall asleep during Councils. Glorfindel’s eyes did change, but it was not alertness that flooded that gaze, rather an odd sort of lust.

The next day, Erestor experimented. Once he was sure that Glorfindel had been lulled into complacency by the sheer lack of interest he had in the minutiae of agriculture, Erestor rose, giving a carefully modulated – and meticulously long-winded – speech designed to leave his listeners in the dust. Watching Glorfindel in the reflective surface of the carefully placed metal ornament Elrond had once received from Durin, Erestor changed the tone and timbre of his voice, following the hunch that told him what truly had Glorfindel’s interest so arrested.

Returning to his own rooms, he paced, going over the results of his little experiment and coming up with a glorious scheme to tease his new lover – Glorfindel might have had many, but Erestor thought him peculiarly innocent in ways of pleasure, still; it was highly likely Glorfindel was unaware of his reactions to changes in the pitch of Erestor’s voice.

 _Interesting_.

 

“As a special treat,” Elrond said, smiling warmly at the crowd in the dining hall, “Loremaster Erestor has offered to do a dramatic reading of the tale of Túrin Turambar for us tonight after dinner.”

Standing, Erestor bowed lightly to the gathered throng of diners, returning his attention to his own plate. Across the table, Glorfindel gave him a happy smile.

“One of my favourite histories,” he said – Erestor already knew that, of course, which was why he had chosen _that_ story for his attempt at aural seduction.

He smiled.

“A particular treat for you, then, my Lord,” he purred seductively, “I do hope you will… _enjoy_ my performance.” He loved teasing, and Glorfindel did not disappoint, tensing for a moment before returning the smile.

Pressing his foot against Glorfindel’s ankle during dinner, he was slightly disappointed by the presence of his calf-length boots, but as his bare toes continued upwards, Glorfindel swallowed nervously, one hand leaving his cutlery and coming down to wrap warmly around Erestor’s ankle, squeezing once in warning.

Erestor gave him a beatific smile, and continued rubbing his thigh slowly, inching his way ever upwards and silently praising whoever had designed the tables to be just wide enough that he didn’t have to stretch to put his foot on Glorfindel’s already-interested crotch. Taking a sip of wine, he ran the arch of his foot up that clothes length, not quite hard, yet, but not altogether flaccid under his touch either.

“What are you doing?” Glorfindel whisper-hissed at him, but he did not move Erestor’s foot away, and that was enough permission to continue, in Erestor’s mind.

“Eating dinner, my Lord Glorfindel,” Erestor replied, “is the food not to your liking? You’ve hardly eaten anything.” His words caught the attention of Glorfindel’s Second-in-Command, a no-nonsense Noldo named Ecetindë, who immediately took it upon herself to urge Glorfindel to eat. Erestor hid his smirk in his wine goblet. Using a few signs he had gleaned from the Gondolin Guards that had survived the Fall, Erestor added silently ‘No touching’, smirking at Glorfindel.

Glorfindel gripped his knife and spoon tightly, but he did not protest the presence of Erestor’s foot in his lap – rubbing against him just enough to keep his lust simmering, but not enough to cause him a full erection – nor Ecetindë’s well-meant mothering.

 

Later, when the plates were cleared, and people had retired to the Hall of Fire, refreshments in hand, Erestor stepped onto the floor.

“It has come to my attention,” he said, “that tonight’s offering is our Lord Glorfindel’s favourite history.” Raising his glass in Glorfindel’s direction, Erestor waited for the inevitable cheer to die down. Carefully dropping his voice just a tiny bit lower, he added, “Therefore I dedicate this performance to you, my Lord.”

He kept his voice mild – not quite noticeably different from his normal manner of reading – until he reached the part of the story where Sador described Húrin at war. As he recited the story, he had walked around the room, and managed to catch Glorfindel’s eye for one small moment that seemed to stretch between them, thick like treacle as he spoke. “’ _I saw him take up his lordship and command. There was a fire in him that made his sword hot in his hand, they said_.’” Drawing out the s in sword just enough that Glorfindel would notice, feeling a pinch of satisfaction when his eyes widened just fractionally, Erestor continued his story. The tale of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad he spoke with all his skill – he could do no less for those present who had lost more than he in that battle – and did not think to tease Glorfindel on purpose. The cry of Fingon was answered by those in the hall – whether they had heard it or not, as such was the power of the story, sweeping hearts and minds along with it – until Erestor thought the spectre of the Valiant had come before them, even if his words were spoken by his own mouth.

When he did look upon Glorfindel again, it was the final words of Morgoth’s curse upon Húrin that left his mouth, and he felt almost surprised to see the light in Glorfindel’s face, the way he leaned in as though he would hear more easily by being closer in body. “Therefore with my eyes you shall see, and with my ears you shall hear… and nothing shall be hidden from you.” The final words felt like a promise he did not yet understand, and Erestor shivered lightly, continuing the long tale.

Of the journey through the mountains to Doriath, he spoke, wandering around the room. Drawing near Glorfindel again, watching the way he hung on each word almost made him wish to give up the game, but not quite.

“… for he had the beauty of his mother and the eyes of his father and he was sturdy and strong,” Erestor said, and he didn’t even have to think about how to lower the timbre of his voice, Glorfindel’s eyes glittering in the firelight making him feel embers of passion grow bright flames in his own mind.

The audience were whispering among themselves, as always, following the thread of the tale as Túrin was fostered by Thingol and Melian in Doriath and grew to manhood, but Erestor knew that no one but Glorfindel was as affected by the sound of his voice.

 

He had to stop himself smirking when the elleth seated beside Glorfindel elbowed him at a particularly innuendo-laden part of the recital – at least his words would be _heard_ as innuendo by Glorfindel, he knew, the other’s pupils dark with lust as he stared at Erestor – asking him about his enjoyment of the tale. Glorfindel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not intending to catch Erestor’s eyes, but the motion made him turn his head, speaking his next words only to Glorfindel’s already beleaguered mind.

“…and gladly would I welcome him back,” _to my bed,_ “for I loved him well.” _Or he loved me – physically, at least_ , Erestor added in his mind, flashing the faintest glimmer of a smirk at Glorfindel and feeling the sense of satisfaction with his little game grow at the way his jaw dropped before he caught himself, furtively looking at those around him.

“And he drew his sword,” Erestor said, flicking a glance at Glorfindel leaning heavily against the table-top before him, not-quite keeping a white-knuckled grip on his long-empty goblet of wine, “sliding it free of the scabbard, prowling towards the orcs camped among the trees.”

To the rest of the Hall, the tale had reached Túrin’s orc hunting days, but Erestor felt quite certain he knew which images filled Glorfindel’s mind at that moment – and they had little to do with Túrin or hunting Orcs, indeed!

“And then he thrust the blade through the widened gap of the armour-” Not for the first time in his life, Erestor felt a distinct pleasure that he was known to wear heavy robes – Glorfindel’s lust-glazed eyes had not failed to affect him in turn, though he was too schooled a storyteller to let on that what he most wanted in that moment was privacy and a particular elf, preferably naked. “And felt the flesh part before him, revealing red insides…” _Painting those inviting red lips with my cum_ , Erestor thought, watching the way Glorfindel tried not to pant, licking his lips unconsciously, making them glisten in the light of the fire. Coming to a natural halt, right in front of Glorfindel’s table, Erestor added the final sentence to that section: “Drawing back the blade, he thrust forth once again, spearing into his enemy with great force, a cry of war on his lips.”

Glorfindel’s grip on the table nearly faltered, his eyes locked on Erestor’s mouth, breathing shallowly as he lifted his goblet with shaking fingers, finally looking away to ensure that he reached his mouth, gulping the potent wine down in one swallow. Erestor groaned internally, wishing it was something entirely different being swallowed with such alacrity. _Would Glorfindel want to do that…_

 

When the fire had burned low, and the tale of Túrin Turambar was finished, Erestor fell into step with Elrond, leaving the Hall of Fire and the applause of those who had stayed o the end, appreciating his skill at weaving a tale worth hearing.

“I must say, Erestor,” Elrond said, smiling as he guided Erestor out of the room, “you did very well tonight - even Lord Glorfindel was absorbed by the tale!”

Glorfindel remained at the table he had claimed, and Erestor knew that the warrior dared not rise for fear of revealing himself to any who dared look.

“I was happy to entertain such an illustrious figure,” Erestor demurred, joining the Master of Imladris in his study for a well-deserved drink, wetting his parched throat and passing nearly an hour in Elrond’s pleasant company.

It was not what he had planned to do, and he felt a flicker of sympathy for Glorfindel, but at the same time the thought of delaying such pleasure as he expected to deal – and be dealt – this night was tantalizingly delicious.

When he left Elrond’s study, Erestor took the path back to the Library. He would give Glorfindel some time to figure it out, he decided, pull an old favourite from the shelves and settle in to wait.

He made it to the last alcove before the Library before a hand shot out from the darkness, grabbing him by the robes and pulling him in for a hard frenzied kiss that nearly pushed all the plans out of his head.

“Glorfindel…” he moaned deeply, sucking on that agile tongue and listening to him hiss, feeling the way his fingers were sneaking clumsily into his robes, grabbing for skin and releasing his resurgent erection into the moonlight. Running his hands up those strong arms, Erestor had a wicked thought. Pressing gently, thrusting slowly into Glorfindel’s fist, he whispered, “Suck me…” barely hoping for obedience.

Glorfindel nodded, looking up – such blue eyes – his tongue making an appearance, trailing along the side of Erestor’s bared cock. He moaned softly, closing his lips around the tip. Erestor groaned.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, twining his fingers through Glorfindel’s hair, plaited for sleep, but wrapping lovingly around his hands, gold spilling across his fists. Those blue eyes shone. A sudden thought struck him, tightening his fingers and thrusting forwards on a wave of pure lust, hitting the back of Glorfindel’s mouth and making him gag lightly. “Oh, so pretty, with your mouth full,” Erestor crooned, sliding his hand down to cup Glorfindel’s cheek, moving his hips lightly. “Glorious…”

“Want – want you,” Glorfindel groaned, “hard.” Pulling away just long enough to moan the words, Glorfindel dove back, stuffing his mouth full once more.

 

Erestor’s eyes widened, pulling back slightly before thrusting forwards, hitting the back of Glorfindel’s mouth hard enough make him moan in his throat, opening just long enough for Erestor to dip in before pulling out.

“That’s it, Glorfindel,” he gasped, “moan for me.”

Then the words he had spoken truly registered, Erestor’s thoughts whirling in his head. _He_ enjoyed this game from time to time, but he hadn’t assumed Glorfindel would enjoy being on the receiving end. Erestor’ grip shifted, taking control of that golden head by the hair in a moment, stopping Glorfindel bobbing his head too deeply for a moment.

“Want me to force you?” he asked, flexing his hips involuntarily.

Glorfindel moaned around him, doing his best version of nodding.

“Force, mmm…” he hummed, looking down at those blue eyes, glazed over with lust, he pulled back, letting Glorfindel get a brief breath of air before slamming himself back inside that hot wet cavern. Glorfindel groaned, those blue eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I can do that, my pretty,” Erestor murmured, stroking Glorfindel’s hair as he let him up for a breath, “oh, yes, you’re so good for me.”

On his knees, begging to have his face stuffed with Erestor’s cock was not what he had envisioned for the evening, but the swirling feeling of lust tightening in his groin told him to keep going. Glorfindel moaned again.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you,” Erestor whispered, one hand caressing Glorfindel’s ear while the other was still wrapped tight in his hair, using it to force him back onto Erestor’s cock. The moan he received told him all he needed to know. “Such a pretty mouth,” he purred, “spreading so wide for me – so hot!” Thrusting himself into Glorfindel’s throat, Erestor held for a moment, feeling his muscles ripple, swallowing convulsively around him. “Fuck!” Pulling back, he let Glorfindel have a breath before forcing himself between those lips once more. “I want you, Glorfindel,” he groaned. “Right here.” Looking down, he caught those eyes looking up at him, the blue nearly subsumed by dark pupils blown wide with lust. “Would you like that,” he asked softly, “right here where anyone might walk past?”

Glorfindel shuddered, the hand not holding on to Erestor’s hip for dear life falling to his lap, rubbing furiously at himself.

Erestor pulled back, tutting softly.

“No touching, Glorfindel,” he murmured, tapping the swollen bottom lip with the head of his cock. It wasn’t _just_ his voice, Erestor realised, it was the things he _said_ , too, dripping praise into his ears that made Glorfindel shudder and keen. “You’ve been so good, so patient – just a little longer, my Lord…”

Glorfindel groaned, his hand moving up to join its fellow at Erestor’s hip, squeezing with nearly bruising force as he returned his focus to sucking Erestor’s soul out through his cock.

Erestor smirked, his head falling back on a groan as that hot tongue returned to play. “Yes, lovely, just like that,” he moaned, hardly enough of his mind left to keep thrusting if not for the undeniable instinct to claim that mouth, make it _his_ – even if just for the night. Tightening his grip, Erestor sped up slowly, hardly even aware of the words spilling from his mouth except for the way his soft praise made Glorfindel moan around him, made that throat flutter as the golden warrior fought not to swoon.

His hands stayed where they were, however, which made Erestor smile, caressing his face and tilting his head up to look into those blue eyes. Glorfindel’s hands clenched around Erestor’s hip, his eyes falling shut one moment only to snap open on the next thrust, seeming determined to make Erestor fall into that ocean never to reclaim himself.

Erestor approached his end swiftly, the combination of Glorfindel’s hot mouth and the heady sense of power from his earlier attempt at unconventional seduction making his own control hang from a thread. He cursed.

“So hot, dearest,” he whimpered, “please…” Looking down, he caught sight of Glorfindel’s lips stretched tight around him, his pupils blown wide with lust. Erestor groaned, knowing that there was no way back now. He tried to pull away, to give Glorfindel the chance to deny him, but the other made an unhappy half-moan deep in his throat and Erestor slammed back into his mouth.

Glorfindel patted his hip gently, getting back to his task with gusto, bobbing at just the right speed to make Erestor’s eyes cross with the pleasure of it.

Nothing existed in the world but the pleasure of Glorfindel’s throat, working furiously around him, his fingers teasing across fabric, even though he needed both hands for balance. He wanted to cry out, biting his lip hard enough to taste blood – getting caught might be a fun fantasy, but not something he wanted to chance without discussion – as the coil snapped, making him shudder as he flew apart, filling that glorious mouth.

 

"You're so good for me, my Lord," he purred weakly, coming back to his mind in increments. Tilting Glorfindel’s head up for moment, wiping a stray droplet of cum from the corner of his mouth, Erestor ran his hands soothingly through golden locks as Glorfindel obediently sucked the last remnants of pleasure from his skin, leaving tingling aftershocks of desire to thrum up his spine. When he was presentable once more, Erestor pulled him to his feet, leaning in for a soft almost-not-there kiss. Glorfindel released a needy whimper at the small caress, but he stayed still. Erestor rewarded him with a deeper kiss, making him groan before side-stepping him easily smirking at the way Glorfindel’s breath shuddered into the quiet of the night.

"Erestor..." Glorfindel called quietly, his voice rough and scratchy in a way that dragged against every pleasured nerve ending in Erestor’s body.

Turning back to glance at the wild-eyed warrior, hardness straining against those soft trousers and sheer need painted across his face, Erestor's smirk widened.

"Are you coming, my Lord?" he asked, pitching his voice at the level that made Glorfindel tremble, his hand unconsciously moving to rub himself through the soft cloth struggling to contain him.

Taking another two steps away from the secluded alcove, he dropped his voice just enough to catch Glorfindel’s attention and added – loudly enough that someone might overhear: “I _thought_ you were willing to demonstrate how the hero of the stories uses his... weapon.” Pausing delicately, he added the honorific almost as an afterthought, “My Lord.”

The loud moan behind him made him smile, picking up his pace a little, though he had taken no more than two steps before Glorfindel was there, pressed against his back, that hard shaft pressing into the cleft of his arse, a low hiss of his own name in his ear.

Pressing back against him, Erestor turned his head, flicking his tongue across the point of that ear once, twice. Glorfindel made a sound that seemed to reverberate through his chest before leaving his mouth in a whimper.

Dragging his lips along Glorfindel's ear, he no longer had to work to make his voice husky with desire. “Thrusting your sword,” Erestor breathed, reaching down to give him a squeeze, revelling in the moan that earned him, “into its tight sheath.”

This time it was _Glorfindel's_ fingers that made him moan, _his_ foot that kicked out his legs from underneath him, only for those arms to catch him up, the long legs – powerful, built for thrusting – making longer strides until they reached Glorfindel’s door.

His hands were tight enough around Erestor's hips to bruise and part of him wanted to do it here, now, wondering what Glorfindel would say to such a suggestion, but the bigger part of him wanted to be on Glorfindel's bed – spread-eagled or on all fours, didn’t matter – feeling that lovely thick tool stretch him wide open.

Erestor whined softly at the thought.

Pressing himself against the planks of wood, Erestor took the moment to steal a taste of those lips, his own flavour lingering in Glorfindel’s mouth, wrapping his legs tighter around Glorfindel's hips to hold himself up when one hand let go of his arse to scrabble for the door handle. He had meant to tease, to take it slow, but the searing heat of Glorfindel's clothed cock against his own resurgence was too good, _too much_ – and not enough.

Panting into shared kisses, Erestor was only vaguely aware of the door moving, falling shut behind them as Glorfindel hastened across the floor, pressing him back into the mattress of the bed he'd been dreaming about for years and thrusting helplessly against him, desperation making him forceful in a way that blew all thoughts of dominance and teasing from Erestor's mind, his legs falling invitingly open.

“Ye…ss” he hissed, tugging on Glorfindel’s hair to get that glorious mouth back to his own, running his hands into the loose neckline of his shirt, tracing those strong shoulders and swallowing Glorfindel’s moans before they broke the silence.

Fumbling with ties on clothing – knots seemed entirely beyond Glorfindel and Erestor found himself largely unconcerned with the fate of the seams on his own robes, hearing several ripping sounds before finally he was pressed tight against warm skin, soft hard planes of strong muscles moving across his chest, sensitive nipples catching on the light dusting of Glorfindel's chest hair and making him moan into the night.

“Er-Erestor," Glorfindel panted, sliding his cock alongside Erestor’s with a broken moan, "I- I need-”

Glorfindel’s fumbling in the drawer of his bedside table seemed to take forever, but Erestor kept his own hands busy running over Glorfindel's arse, trading panting open-mouthed kisses as he pushed those restricting sleep trousers down his legs, using his feet to help. His own robes bunched around his hips, he heard the slick sound of Glorfindel tipping oil into his palm, felt the slippery glide of fingertips teasing the rim of his hole.

“A-Ai, Glorfindel!” he whimpered, hissing at the sudden hard stretch of two fingers pushing inside him. "Fuck!" he moaned, squeezing Glorfindel's hips with his thighs, lifting his own in a silent plea for more. Glorfindel's forehead pressed against his for a moment, those fingers completely still inside him. Erestor needed him to _move_ , his eyes snapping open to stare up at the handsome face hovering almost-anxiously above him.

“I'm sorry!” Glorfindel exclaimed, stiffening as he stared down to where his strong digits had breached Erestor’s body, looking like he was about to pull back.

Erestor growled at him.

“You will be if you don't get _moving_ ,” he said, biting at the tempting lower lip of his lover. Glorfindel whined, but those fingers – blessed fingers – began to move, slowly, at first, but picking up speed with the trembling impatience of long denial. “So good…!” he whimpered, throwing his head back. Glorfindel’s hot lips closed around the pulse beating wildly in his neck, and then he _sucked_.

Erestor nearly bucked him off the bed.

Snagging up the glass vial, Erestor slicked his own fingers, reaching down to grab Glorfindel's cock and feeling the need for more fill him.

“In me,” he panted, his slick fist making Glorfindel slippery. The elf above him moaned deeply, opening his mouth to offer protest. Staring up into those blue eyes, he wondered if he’d have to beg, and realised that he would not mind it so long as it was Glorfindel listening to his whimpered pleas. “Now!” Erestor growled, pressing his foot desperately against that arse. He knew what he could handle – and he was so ready for this.

It was hard, and glorious, and an almost painfully full feeling when Glorfindel finally pressed forwards, found his way home, but it was everything Erestor needed.

Tossing his head back, he felt Glorfindel mouthing at his throat, his shoulders, running a line of biting kisses up the side of his neck, but he could only focus on the burn and stretch of that thick invader, forcing its way into him, making him yield to the strength he had coveted for longer than even he knew.

“Glorfindel...” he moaned, reaching around to cup his arse, pinching that tight flesh. “I need you...”

The feeling of Glorfindel inside him, the smell of his hair oil clinging to the sheets and the obscenely loud sound of flesh against flesh that he had muffled with his robes earlier were now allowed free reign, bright bursts of starlight filling his mind when Glorfindel struck that spot just right.

Every thrust was bliss, the whimpering cries of his lover when he tightened around him better music than any Lindir might compose, every stroke across the bundle of nerves inside hitting him just right, as though they had done this a hundred times before.

“More,” he begged, running his hands up Glorfindel’s shoulders to tangle in his hair again, bringing his face back in range of his kisses. Thrusting his hips up to meet Glorfindel’s, Erestor moaned. “So good, darling, please-” he babbled, squeezing him tightly.

Letting his head fall forwards onto Erestor’s shoulder, Glorfindel sped up, chasing that glorious high they both knew would not be stayed – even though Erestor had already scaled the heights once tonight.

Glorfindel dipped his head, that gloriously hot mouth that had already brought Erestor such pleasure, homing in on a sensitive nipple. It was a small thing, in the end, simply the light brush of his hair – tangled by Erestor’s fingers earlier, but still half plaited for sleeping –  against Erestor’s chest, the gold stretching across pale skin like a mark of ownership that undid him.

“E-Erestor!” he growled, gripping his hips tightly, riding the wave of pleasure coursing through him, raining him of everything but the feeling of Erestor’s warmth beneath him – _around him_ – and the panted moans in his ear.

Feeling Glorfindel reach his own peak, his hips stuttering wildly when he bit down, adding a sharp spike of pain to the pleasure already overwhelming his mind, Erestor exploded.

A name echoed in his mind, painted in streaks of euphoric colour across his soul and Erestor didn’t care to feel troubled by the depth of the feeling he found when he rode those halcyon waves of bliss.

Loosing the bellow he would have uttered earlier in the alcove, he let the world know just who was responsible for his ecstasy.

“Glorfindel!”

 


End file.
